Rainy days and no beginnings
by Heartgrater
Summary: After a life time of rainy days and no beginnings Molly Hooper meets Sherlock Holmes, and it's safe to say she wont have any dignity left after this one. Told entirely in 1st person.
1. Rainy days and no begginings

After my last one I wanted a more fluffy story so he's a bit of light heartedness.

This is told entirely in Molly's point of view.

WARNING: Unlike my other stories this does have language in and drug abuse.

DISCLAIMER: I don't now, nor will I ever own Sherlock, and even more sadly I don't own Benedict Cumberbatch.

Enjoy, please do.

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"_I don't count." – Molly Hooper Reinbach falls. _

Normal day at work, look at the list, start the tests, close them up, next.

Easy.

I sit at my desk still wondering what on earth to do.

My fingernails soon begin to drum on the table, and to my dismay I seem to have been quite tidy, no blood, nothing to clean up, and nothing to _do._

The door slams open against the wall with a resounding bang, so much so that my heads snaps up to see the commotion.

The guy stood in the doorway is quite simply _gorgeous._

Curls frame his face, black as jet, eyes as white as the snow, turned up collar, coat actually clinging to the top half of his body.

I immediately scramble up dust myself off and stagger towards the man in determination.

I trip over a stool in my haste, bring myself up and land at his feet; I can already feel myself turning the colour of a ripe tomato.

"H-hello. Molly Hooper. At your service!" I throw in a cheesy grin for good measure only to realise minutes later that it failed drastically.

The man seems unimpressed at my efforts and raises a brow, making his beautiful eyes open up more.

God help me I'm going to die.

"Sherlock Holmes. Consulting detective." He says his words like he is the most important person on the earth.

In a last ditch attempt to salvage the situation I throw out my hand for him to shake, I can almost feel; the desperation surging through my eyes.

He doesn't take it.

I sigh, he's as cold as the winter weather it seems, instead I try to impress him by hardening my face a little.

"Well? I'm very busy Mr. Holmes." I reply sarkily and failing to be sarky.

"You aren't. You were sat at your desk looking at the table. Hardly busy." He replies with twice as much sarkiness.

My mouth opens like a goldfish and I turn the colour of my red nail varnish as I look down at my shoes in shame.

"W-well. What business do you have here?" I ask timidly, securing my hair self-consciously.

" Just to inform you that I am working with D.I Lestrade, I may be making frequent visits here." He examined the room with a slight air of distaste around him.

"Only authorised people are-" I see the look on his face and trail away in defeat.

"Good day Mr. Holmes." I sigh miserably as he gives a short nod.

He leaves the room and I collapse into a chair, letting the last few minutes hit me.

Time to get home I think.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

Right, part two will be up tomorow folks! Don't forget to review, thanks :P


	2. Lifts

Okay... this is waaay to early in the morning but because it's a day late you need it;

DISCLAIMER: Dont own sherlock, derrr. :)

Enjoy!

* * *

I wake up in my bedroom, legs twisted into some sort of shape and eyes barely open.

After last night I'd nearly sprinted home, and to be honest I was glad to be back in my own bed.

With a yawn I roll out of thump and land on the floor.

With a groan I stagger out like a zombie pulling open my bathroom door to have a shower, the tiles are wet with condensation, and unfortunately it took me too long to realise that.

With a sigh I start my reflections and gently close the door.

I seem to have took too long, I walk out of the shower like I'm in a rom com and shake my hair dramatically.

Then I look at the clock.

"Buggar." I curse, it's 8:30, I have half an hour.

With a resounding sigh I pull my vest top on quickly, before realising it has blood down it, I sigh again irrationally and sift through my draws until I find a knee long floral dress.

Practical.

_Just in case he's there. _The thought deep in my mind arises as I shake it out furiously.

I slip on my brown mules and drag a comb through my hair, wincing in pain when it happens to bald me.

To top it all off, I get my favourite lipstick which I discover is too blunt to use.

Great.

I flip on a bit of mascara, and without taking a second look grab my phone of the drawer and hurry out of the door, grabbing my coat from the hook as I went.

It will have to do, feeling slightly insecure I trudge along to work trying my best to flatten my hair with my fingertips.

It's a short walk thank goodness, so as soon as I walk into the building I just have to bump into _him._

I turn red immediately and start stumbling.

"M-Mr. Holmes how nice of you to pop b-by." I stutter tripping over my own feet to get into the lift on time.

He stares at me for a moment.

Follows me into the lift and takes a deep breath.

"You don't think it's nice for me to be here, you woke up half an hour late 7:00 am, therefore you had to get ready straight away instead of staying in bed for a while like you tend to do, the look on your face and the stress lines indicate this isn't the first time this has happened."

I stand gaping at him my mouth opening and shutting like a goldfish.

"H-how do you know that?" I finally manage to ask.

He presses the button with the flick of a finger and the lift groans and creaks.

He raises an eyebrow in my direction.

"It always does this." I reply a little breathlessly.

The lights start to flicker and eventually dim out.

"Are you sure it does this Molly?" He asks, I can't see his expression in the pitch black.

"N-No." I reply.

I have a terrible feeling it's broke.

I blush and realise the close proximity we are in, the lift is tiny now I think about it.

"Miss. Hooper I believe we are trapped."

He sighs and flips out a blackberry from his pocket.

"No signal." He replies loftily.

I bang my hands on the wall, yelling as much as my lungs will allow;

"Help me! I mean, us!" I yell repetitively.

This earns me a sigh from Mr. Holmes.

"What is your name ?" He asks coyly.

"Molly. Molly Hooper." I reply steadily urging myself to calm down.

"Sherlock Holmes." He replies before smiling.

The light from the blackberry lit up his face and he revealed with a sinister stare;

"Signal."

I think I nearly collapsed in relief.

* * *

Thankyou! Reviews! please. ;)


	3. Windows

My apologies ff readers! I'm so sorry! I have been stuck in a pit of homework, plays, hugging and more! Please dont kill me!

A bit more of an emotional insight into Molly on this chapter me thinks

Enjoy and review otherwise you're in trouble! ;) jokes jokes, I joke!

* * *

I lean against the wall, my eyes starting to adjust to the darkness.

"So how l-long do you think it will t-take?" I ask gently not wanting to jerk a sudden mood change.

"Be patient." He replies bluntly.

Silenced again by just a sigh I slide down the wall cupping my knees towards me, you get used to stuff like this, but to fair, I've only just met the guy.

"Lestrade, we have a problem.." He drones

"Don't call D.I Lestrade!" I hiss, in his ear, there's people you can call for lift service isn't there? You don't call a _detective inspector._

"Yes, me and a…. colleague seem to be stuck in the elevator." He replies.

_He called me a colleague!_

I'm so glad its pitch black, as if the lights were on I would resemble a tomato in its entity.

It's getting quite hot in here actually.

I whip out a file from my bag and waft it over my face.

_Reeesult!_

He puts down the phone, still with his back to me and says;

"Maintenance are correcting the problem."

"Oh okay." I reply shakily before standing up.

_3 hours 25 minutes and 8 seconds later;_

The doors slide open and I watch them warily as we get off at the mortuary.

"Good job that's over?" I ask, partly for him to agree and partly for his acceptance.

"Good day Miss Hooper." He replies.

_Breathe._

With a little smile I walk off to the mortuary and I have to resist not skipping.

He follows.

"Excuse me?" I ask him, I don't fully understand why he's here.

"I need to look in your morgue. "He replies steadily.

"I'm… I-"

"What?" He demand's sharply.

"I cant let you in without authorisation." I say helplessly.

His blank face sets in stone.

"Im a consulting detective!" He seems to be having a paddy over it.

"Im sorry." I reply before opening the door and leaving.

A foot in the door.

I spin round sharply, for a moment everything loses it's focus and I have to blink to regain my eyesight.

When it returns however, is at my desk sorting through my files.

"Excuse me! That really is confidential!" I urge.

He looks at me gently, scanning his eyes up and down my body, I suddenly feel transparent, a pane of glass, easy to see through, concealing no secrets.

"You're 32, you live alone, no father, not in contact with your own mother, you fail in all your relationships and judging by your clothes you use…"

He leans up to me and inhales my scent, this is a shock, so much so I jump a mile away.

"You use ariel washing powder, you have a cat called Toby, you owned a dog before that but you were allergic to it." He concludes with a flourish and returns to the desk.

"I-I'm 31 and three quarters…." I trail off, I don't understand., how could he know.

"How does he know? How does he know I use ariel? You probably are going to ask." He says with a flicker of a smirk.

"Uhh-" I start

"You're 31 and three quarters because of your appearance. Obviously. I can tell you live alone judging from the lack of phone numbers in your address, you only have a mother as I seem to have read your blog, I know you owned a dog before because you grimaced when Lestarde had one of the dogs in. simple isn't it?" he asks as though I totally understand all of this.

"Y-yes." I reply.

"You don't mean that." He replies bluntly and begins shifting through my paperwork.

Im too dumbfounded to stop him.

"No!No!No!No!" He said scanning my examinations.

"May I examine the body?" He asks, as though he knows the answer.

"No." I reply finally gaining some sense.

He stops, crestfallen, before building himself up again.

"Why, your hair looks.. lovely today." He replies even though he's only known me for a tiny fraction of a lifetime.

I smile trying to get rid of the cascade that he's only saying that to look at a body.

"Why thank you…. Erm. The body is over there." I give in pointing him to the morgue drawer, revealing the suicide case.

A smile lights up his face (his.. beautiful face.) and he steps over to the drawer.

_God help me._

* * *

_Was that okay? I luff you alll!_


	4. You left your magnifying glass

Why hello! Jesus it feels like years since I've last uploaded, and I hope this doesn't disapoint!

I'm going to make a pact to update three times per month, and if I don't i give you permission to moan at me, through my tumblr or here.

DISCLAIMER: You should know by now that i don't own Sherlock, you really should.

Enjoy, please do.

* * *

I watch quietly as he pours over the body, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

"So… were you born in London?" I ask, trying to save the crumbling atmosphere.

"Stop asking pointless questions you know the answer to, I'm trying to work." He replies, before cracking out a magnifying glass from his pocket with a flourish.

I blink a few times at the harshness of his words.

I feel quite helpless, so I decide to catch up on the 'John Doe' case, families, and contacts were desperately being sought in a bid to confirm his identity, it's hard because he's the most mutilated and disgusting corpse I've ever worked with.

Tapping my bitten nails on the counter my head lands on the desk with a sigh.

"Stop trying to acquire my attention." He tells me.

I breathe out shallowly, trying to focus on work, instead of the man behind me.

" Stop sighing, it's distracting." He sighs himself and I hear him making random mutters under his breath.

" .Wrong."

I finally lift my head of the table.

"How is it wrong Mr Holmes?" I ask him, my attention having been caught.

"Sherlock, I insist. And your case notes are completely wrong, it was a suicide, but look to the left of his temple, you yourself said it was a pellet, but this bullet has come from a pistol. He had iron deficiency tablets, you said they weren't prescribed. Shoddy work indeed."

"Oh." I replied.

I was sure that it was right.

"No , it isn't right."

I blinked at him for a moment before nodding.

"Okay."

"Farewell, Miss hooper, I'll be back tomorrow for another corpse." He tells me before realising my eyes are upon his arm.

He quickly rolls down his sleeves and walks out.

My eyes are glued to them, as I see the tell-tale sign of drug use on his arms.

My anger at him being so blunt quickly disappears and is replaced with concern.

I consider walking out and following him.

I quickly push open the doors and yell out;

"Sherlock!"

I can see his black mop turn back round.

I pick up my pace a jog a little, it's times like this when I thank the fact that I don't wear heels to work.

"Sherlock- can-I-talk-to-you?" I ask him, my breath coming out in rough breaths.

He raises his eyebrow a fraction before following my lead back to the morgue.

_How do I go about this?_

I run a few imaginary scenarios of what I could do, what I could say.

Could I discreetly make an excuse which will make him show his arm?

Or should I tackle it head first?

I walk into the mortuary and sit down.

"C-can. I mean, if you don't mind, which of course if you do- well. Can I look at your arm?" I ask as politely as I can.

He raises his eyebrow again but silently complies, raising his shirt sleeve.

All the way up his arm are punctures, from a needle no doubt, dancing up and down his arm in an array of injuries.

"Oh Sherlock." I whisper, part shock, part sympathy.

Before I can say anything else his sleeves are rolled back down.

"I'm not a zoo exhibit Molly, so I would prefer if you stopped gawking at me." He says sharply.

"S-sorry." I reply.

He gets up and aims for the door.

"How long have you been taking drugs?" I ask him quietly, my eyes focused on the spot of blood on the floor.

He doesn't turn to face me.

"A while."

I nod turning my head to the body that he had finished with, leaving it cut open on the slab.

"I'm sorry." I whisper quietly.

"I don't know why you are, it's my body." He replies, it's intended to be harsh, but the tone in his voice lacks it entirely.

"I know. But I just… Am." I reply, before getting to work to remove the body and the instruments he had used.

"You've left your magnifying glass." I say, before handing it to him, and finally, letting him make his own way out.

* * *

I hope it was okay, smellies. Review if you wish, I'd prefer it if you did :)


	5. Hearts and tables

Right, hello dearies!

This is quite a long chapter, with not much Sherlock, sorry!

you know I don't own Sherlock.

Enjoy!

* * *

I'm not even aware of what time it is, I should have left an hour ago.

It's been a good day, a very good day indeed.

I gather up my things, slide the cadaver back in the fridge and open the door, as I look back, the whole moment seems so fragile and perfect that I'm reluctant to leave.

I do, eventually, and when I do I bump into Lestrade.

"Oh hello, it's lovely to see you! I haven't seen you for a while." I gush at him smiling slightly, I sound a bit over enthusiastic but it's true. I've hardly seen him with all the commotion about the serial killer.

"Hi Molly, yeah it has been a while, we'll have to talk sometime, but erm, I really have to chase up these files, I'm in a bit of a rush, so yeah."

He left quickly before I could even reply to him.

"Oh okay." I note quietly to myself before going down in the lift to go home.

It's been a long month too, with the serial killer on the loose, body after body, after body has entered my mortuary in the most disgusting conditions and states I've ever seen in my whole career.

The doors ping open and I feel quite wary, as if they break again.

They don't, and I walk out of the doors, exhaustedly.

Hurriedly I run out of barts and hail a cab.

"Cloth fair please." I tell the man, he's quite attractive for a taxi driver, mind you he wasn't a patch on Sherl-

_What are you doing? You've only known him for 3 days!_

It's quite sad that I'm counting.

With a frustrated sigh I bash my head against the window, much to the taxi drivers amusement.

"Bad day love?" He asks, he has a very strong London accent.

"Erm… A bit, yes." I reply, actually it's been good. I guess.

"Ah right." He replies, he's silent after that.

I want to save the awkward atmosphere but I leave it, and place my head against the window softly.

When he finally pulls up at my house I give him the faire .

"Keep the change." I tell him quietly, before going into my house and shutting the door tight.

The rest of the night is spent watching glee, and stroking Toby, and then finally, I'm able to sleep.

* * *

The phone rings so loudly I nearly fall out of my bed.

_7:30 _

Blearily I pick it up and place it to my ear.

"Hello?" I ask wearily, my voice croaky from the prolonged sleep.

"Hello Molly. It's mummy here, just ringing to wake you up deary." Her sickly sweet voice rings through my ears as she speaks.

"You haven't done this since I was in _university." _ I reply looking horrified at the phone.

"I know my lovely, but it's your time in the limelight today! Remember you have to do that lecture for the university students studying science?" She croons.

I did _not _remember that.

"shit!" I curse, hoping she can't hear me, because my mother believes I am the spawn of god, an active angel.

Just to clarify, I'm not.

"What was that darling?" She asks.

"Nothing… Bye Mum." I yell urgently.

I throw the phone down with a bang, before running into the bathroom to have a shower.

It's freezing.

I _hate _my boiler.

With a quick meep I try to speed up the whole progress as much as possible.

_I hope those students don't think I'm weird._

_I hope they don't think I look stupid_

_I hope they think I'm nice._

_I am nice aren't I?_

I shake my head at my silliness and continue having a shower, the water heating up.

I realise that I can't spend forever here and jump out of the tub like a madman, rapping the towel around me.

My heart drops when I think that's he may be there.

I curse some more.

It's 8 oclock. I should be in work in half an hour.

I almost scream.

With a little yelp I dry my hair half-heartedly before throwing on an old skirt and a cardi-thing-ma-doodle.

No time for makeup.

Nor shoes it seems as I almost run out barefoot.

Sighing, I pull on some beige pumps and run out of my flat, pausing to grab my phone.

The taxi, thankfully stops for me.

" please." I croak, and collapse into the chair.

This just proves I 'm not very fit, I'm breathing really heavy.

The car pulls up and I have no time for change so I just leave him a tenner.

"Cheers." I breathe.

I peg it up the stairs, because I can't trust lifts, and to my annoyance the students are already seated.

"H-hello, sorry for my tardiness." I tell them all.

I've got a few eyebrows raised already.

"Now of course you're all here, for anatomy! Yes anatomy."

Silence.

"Sorry. Erm now if you want to pass science, you need to know about the human body, now we have a body donated for med students, and obviously because you are med students… Well you understand." I can feel myself reddening.

"So before you dissect anything you need to do preparation, for example cleaning the area you wish to use."

"In this case, it's obviously the table."

I wiped down the table feeling 20 pairs of eyes upon me.

"We have here a corpse of a man. Can anyone estimate his age?" I ask out to the crowd.

I look out to a row of hands, it takes me by surprise.

"Erm, the lady on the front row." I signal to a nervous looking girl, with glasses placed upon her narrow face.

"Sixty or late fifties." She replies nervously, running a hand through her straight hair.

I nod, "that's rig-"

Before I can continue, I see Sherlock slip through the narrow door.

I stop.

Crap.

"Ri-"

I try again.

This time I get lots of eyebrows raised.

"Yes. That's r-right."

"Erm, well. Yes, so once you've cleaned it, take the body out, like so."

I pull open the morgue drawer trying not to gain eye contact with Sherlock.

"today I'd like to show you the heart muscle."

"Now of course you all know, that the muscle on the left side of the heart is thicker than on the right, this is because of the-"

"Excuse me miss, is it because the left side of the heart has a lot more pressure to deal with?" the nervous girl asks.

"Yes. Yes it is. Now here we get the-"

I knock the solution of the sideboard with my hip and it splatters all over the floor.

_I think I'm going to cry._

I try and recover my dignity, by laughing and saying;

"Whoopsie daisy."

I received a few chuckles, but by this time I had turned the colour of a ripe tomato.

"Okay then, erm."

I mop up the solution quickly, trying to get this over with.

_All you have to do is show them a heart dissection._

Sometime later, with the dissection finished, the students were all swanning out of room, I had made the worst fool of myself ever. I knocked three things over, landed on my bum twice, and nearly had a wrestling match with a freezer.

_And all in front of Sherlock too._

* * *

_Well thats it! Next chapter will be out next monday. You've read up to here, you might as well review. ;)_


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